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Patrick Ladbrooke (England)
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The Bond
I remember nights of roaring surf,
The long rods nodding with the pull,
Watching in the hiss and glare of pressure lamps,
Waiting with my father, for the fish to run.
And run they did, made lines sing in the wind,
Smooth muscled silver-green flanked cod,
Gorged plump on shrimp shoaled in the scour.
We cradled them from breaker’s undertow,
Our sea soaked clothes raw in the cold of night,
To marvel as they glistened on the sand.
Next day, served on our plates,
They tasted like they’d swum from seas of heaven.
But time has stolen him away from me,
And I have lost the heart, for fishing was our bond,
Yet still I look out on the starry, surf filled, fishless nights
To think of how it was;
Just waiting for the moon to light a seaward path,
And wishing it could take me back to then.
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Brilliant poem, very nostalgic, great memories that will never erase the special bond shared, thanks for sharing.
Woops......the atmosphere, we meant.
Liked it very much.Found it very evocative.
Terrific Write! you really captured the scene with poignancy and endearment, every line was crisp and magnetic and it would really make your father proud, I thank him for providing you the experience to write this
A beautiful poem of nostalgia with beautifully drawn images visualizing the scenes presented in the poem.The longing to belong to the past by the poet is strongly felt in the last stanza.
Some of the best verse I've read recently. Thank you for the emotional experience.
What a wonderful experience, beautifully written.
Your words spin vivid scenes in the reader’s mind. The tug at the rods, drenched clothes, the chill and the moonlit fish making a run for it. Amazing imagery. delightfully spun lines and skilfully crafted story-telling.
This is superb! I can really feel the words
It beautifully breaks my heart... I have to say that this is good work you Patrick!